It was a touch

a delicate tracing

over a spot long lost

or better yet, one never found




It a word

whispered with a command

like a tempest

picking up leaves


It might have been a kiss

with bodies pressed

entwined in a dance

that carried it away


No matter, it was lost


She tried to get it back

gasping with eyes closed

craving the air

and something else much more


She raised up and clawed

just out of reach, her breath teased

she could see it…playing with rainbow stars

her lungs ached for oxygen


Yet her loins ached more

They called the stars to take her

and the listened with smiles

and released her


The stars cascaded down

tiptoeing on her soft skin

pulsing with fever

at last her breath returned




~ by Ron Usher on June 16, 2007.

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